


tinted with sepia

by ilietomyselfallthetime



Category: Dead Poets Society (1989)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fix-It of Sorts, M/M, Neil Perry (Dead Poets Society) Lives, Out of Character, Suicide Attempt, bad, talking out of suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-12 20:08:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28891110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilietomyselfallthetime/pseuds/ilietomyselfallthetime
Summary: Todd has a bad feeling after the play, so he goes to make sure Neil is alright. (spoiler alert, he isn’t)
Relationships: Todd Anderson/Neil Perry
Comments: 6
Kudos: 57





	tinted with sepia

**Author's Note:**

> tw for mention of suicide/ gun

Todd Anderson’s legs nearly gave out from under him as he ran, snow falling gently around him doing nothing to calm his racing heart. It would be beautiful, he thought with disdain, if it wasn’t for the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, the part that once housed frolicking butterflies.

Everything was fine, no, perfect, before Neil’s father came. Todd hadn’t noticed his arrival until Neil’s final monologue. Neil, and his performance was so beautiful, he suddenly understood what Keating had meant when he referenced ‘words dripping like honey’ all those weeks ago.

“If we shadows have offended, Think but this, and all is mended,” Todd was so swept up into Neil’s words, that he hardly noticed how Neil’s eyes had fixated on the back exit. The slight change however, was in Neil’s voice; now dripping with pointed contempt rather than the sweet honey from before.

“That you have but slumber’d here While these visions did appear.” Todd turned to view the subject of Neil’s pointed gaze, and it was then he saw Mr. Perry. His face went hot and cold at the same time, stomach dropping to meet his oxford shoes. This was not how tonight was supposed to play out.

“And this weak and idle theme, No more yielding but a dream, Gentles, do not reprehend: if you pardon, we will mend,” He spoke, voice breaking slightly at the last sentence, and Todd quietly gasped for air. Neil’s father was looking at him like he was a convicted murderer or some lowly scum on the bottom of his shoe-- and Neil had never wanted to choke someone out so badly.

“What’s wrong?” Charlie whispered, pulling on the sleeve of Todd’s suit jacket. 

“Uh...” He trailed off, glancing over at Mr. Perry with his eyes.

“Shit,” Charlie muttered, running a hand through his hair. “Neil’s gonna flip.”

“And, as I am an honest Puck, If we have unearned luck Now to ‘scape the serpent’s tongue, We will make amends ere long; Else the Puck a liar call; So, good night unto you all.” Todd looked at Neil, desperately wishing he could telepathically tell Neil everything would be alright-- but he wasn’t completely sure that was true.

“Give me your hands, if we be friends, And Robin shall restore amends.” Neil finally broke eye contact with his father, eyes running over the poets-- and lingering on Todd, but that was neither here nor there-- and he took a breath as thundering applause roared from around him.

People were whooping, screaming, and he hoped Neil knew that it was him who they were cheering for. As the cast came out for bows, they pushed Neil to the front, and the poets stood up, screaming “YAWP!” and “CARPE DIEM!” as loud as they could.

A tear rolled its way down Todd’s cheek, and it was then he registered that Neil’s performance reduced him to tears. As he went to wipe it away, Mr. Keating and him locked eyes, and with a knowing look, Keating grinned at him. His heart soared with pride as everyone continued their standing ovation. Neil’s face broke out into a large grin, genuine and all consuming, and Todd thought briefly about how lucky he was to have someone like Neil in his life.

As the applause died down, everyone slowly exited the theatre, congregating around the doors. Todd was eager to see Neil, but something like fear had worked itself in the back of his mind, like he would never see him again.

To summarize, yes, Todd did see him, but only as he was getting dragged by his father, like a caught criminal being lead to h̶i̶s̶ ̶e̶x̶e̶c̶u̶t̶i̶o̶n̶ the back seat of a cop car. The poets all yelled various encouragement and praise, but Neil, a pale, ghostly white, seemed as though he didn’t quite hear them. He smiled faintly at them, or more accurately, towards them. The group watched fearfully as Neil was shoved into the passenger’s seat. He looked out through the window with humiliation and shame as his father reprimanded Mr. Keating.

“Come on, Mr Perry,” Charlie pleaded, more desperately than Todd had ever heard before.

If he heard Charlie, he didn’t react.

Todd locked eyes with Neil as Mr. Perry started the car, and Todd thought, pathetically, that he’d never seen eyes look so sad.

\-----

“Should we be seriously worried about him?” Knox asked, voice thick with disturbance. He had his hands tucked comfortably in the pockets of his thickly lined jacket, but he shivered nonetheless.

“I don’t know... You really think Mr. Perry would do anything?” Cameron asked, trying to be calm but fear creeping through his voice.

Everyone looked around for an answer, specifically from Charlie, who was being uncharacteristically quiet.

“It’s Neil,” Todd spoke, surprising even himself. “He always figures something out. It’s Neil, guys.”

They all nodded in agreement, though no one seemed awfully convinced (though, no one as unconvinced as Todd).

“He was good,” Pitts said, almost sadly, and Todd was suddenly struck with the feeling to cry. It was eerily familiar to funerals he had gone to as a child, where friends and family stood around contemplating the life of the departed--and that wasn’t a thought he wanted to have about Neil. That anxiety nestled it’s way into Todd, spreading through his veins like blood, burrowing it’s way into his core.

“Where does Neil live?” Todd asked, unusually steadily, fear hiding behind his love for Neil.

“What?” Meeks asked, eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

“Where does he-”

“A couple of miles North,” Charlie offered, staring into Todd’s soul with eyes clearer than ever. It was like Charlie read Todd like a piece of sax music, or the next assignment from Mr. Keating. “It’s the grey one on Allenbrook.”

Todd nodded simply as the others eyed him with suspicion. 

“Todd, what are you going t-“ Cameron began, and Todd took off, running. 

He could hear the others all make varying noise of surprise and amazement, but louder than all, Charlie laughed. 

“Holy shit! Should we follow him?” Meeks asked, jaw dropped. 

Charlie smirked as they watched Todd run, like a mad man. “No. He’s gotta do this on his own.” 

—-

So that’s how Todd ended up here, running as snow lazily drifted in the air around him. 

He paused for air, just as houses began coming into view. As he approached them, still wheezing slightly, he noticed one in particular had a window open. It was grey, like Charlie had said, and as he squinted his eyes, he saw Puck’s crown of thorns. 

A large smile broke out over his face, and he refrained from barbarically yelling: ‘Neil!’ as he approached. 

He clumsily climbed the Perry’s fence, and peered through the open window to verify that this was in fact Neil’s room. After a brief inspection, the model airplanes and ugly letters spelling out ‘NEIL’ over the closet was good enough for Todd. 

He hoisted himself up, surprising himself with his upper body strength, and peered around corners for Neil. That innate sense of trepidation returned in the core of Todd’s being, as he noticed the majority of Neil’s things were laid out on his bed —his script for the play, his pajamas, his favorite green sweater— he tried to take a calming breath. 

“Neil?” He whispered into the still, dead air of the house. The door to the room was left ajar. 

“He just went to get a glass of water...” he told himself, cringing as the door squeaked. 

He apprehensively made his way down the hall, hoping to god the foot steps he was hearing weren’t Mr. Perry’s. 

“Neil?” He asked again as the door to the study closed. 

Suddenly, Todd was reminded of the scary story Neil had told in the hushed darkness of the Dead Poet’s Cave, the madman outside the window, the terrified woman— and Todd wasn’t quite sure which one he was. 

He pushed the door open, holding his breath. 

“Oh Neil, thank god it’s-“ 

Neil turned around, startled, and that’s when Todd noticed the gun. 

“Oh my god,” he said, shocked. 

“Todd?” He asked, hollow and absently. 

Todd nodded, words once again managing to evade him. 

“Why are you here?” Neil asked, eyes looking through him. 

“I- I-“ Todd choked on his words, heart beating so loudly he was sure Neil could hear it. 

“You shouldn’t see this.” Neil said, blankly, unwrapping the cloth around the gun. 

“Neil,” Todd said, like a prayer. 

“You should leave,” Neil whispered as he looked down at the gun. “I’m trapped. You don’t have to be.” 

“Oh, Neil,” Todd said, slowly approaching him. 

“Just leave!” He snapped. 

“No!” Todd responded, and a brief flash of emotion crossed Neil’s face. 

Neil ran a finger over the curvature of the gun. “This is the only way my father doesn’t get what he wants.” Todd opened his mouth to speak but words failed him, not for the first time. 

“I’m sorry,” Todd said, and he began to lift the gun to his mouth. 

“Neil, please,” Todd began, pleadingly. “I, we can’t live without you.” 

Neil looked on. 

‘Come on, Todd, make your fucking mouth move,’ he thought. He prayed for words to come easily to him. 

“I- I... never had that childhood, the one you look back on fondly. The one that becomes tinted with sepia,” he started, not really sure where he was taking this. “You, y-you’re how I imagine what being a kid is like. You- you are like... how nostalgia tastes...like laughing so hard you cry or crying so hard you laugh,” Todd gasped for air. “Like- like pretending to be sick to stay home from school. You’re like how it feels to find a childhood letter or drawing or whatever, and tracing your finger over it, trying to be that kid again. Like crashing into someone, after not seeing them for days, weeks, months, years...” he looked at Neil for a response, and watched as tears worked their way from his eyes. “You’re like the breath of air you take after being convinced you’re drowning. Like the sun on your skin after a long winter. You make me excited for the snow, or the rain, the spring and the sun, for school, studying— you make me want to live, Neil. You remind me that there’s a future where I can be that kid. But I can’t be without the sun to beat down on my face. Without air to breathe.” 

Todd looked at Neil, breathless, soul out on display, face flushed. 

“Things are bad right now,” Todd said, not wanting to scare Neil away. “You taught me that things don’t stay that way forever. We still have time to gather our rosebuds... we still have time to live deliberately, to write our verse. None of us can do that without you, Neil.” 

The two boys looked at each other for what felt to each of them hours, maybe even days. Neil’s eyes were wide, like a deer caught in headlights. Todd, however; his eyes were steady. The blue of his eyes washed over Neil like slow, calming waves, diluting his father and purifying him. 

Neil’s hand shook as he slowly lowered the gun. Todd gratefully took it from him, and threw it as far as he could away from them. 

“Oh, thank- thank you, Neil,” Todd sobbed, wrapping his arms around his naked torso. 

“I’m sorry,” Neil said, crying as well. “i didn’t-“ he paused, “I don’t..”

“Shh, Shh, it’s okay. Don’t apologize, we’ll get you help okay?”

“Can it wait til morning?” Neil asked, shaking with sobs, “m’ tired.”

“Come on,” Todd said, hoisting Neil to his feet.

As the two collapsed in Neil’s bed, Todd carefully ran his hand through Neil’s hair as he cried. 

“I’m sorry,” Neil hiccuped again.

“Don’t be,” Todd whispered, “tomorrow morning we’ll figure it out. Then we can all run away.” 

Neil hummed in agreement. 

“We can buy a school bus, all of the poets, and write all of our favorite poems on the outside. Charlie will try to pick up girls everywhere we stop. Knox will wax poetic about Chris... I guess not that much would change for him. Pitts and Meeks would do a bunch of internships and fix up our bus. Cameron will... tell on us to himself, I guess. I’ll write plays and then you can star in them. We’ll perform them at every stop, then disappear the next day, leaving everyone wondering where the best actor they’d ever seen went, thinking it was just some marvelous dream.”

“That sounds perfect,” Neil said, dreamily, wiping tears from his eyes. 

Nothing was okay. But it would be. Todd held Neil as he fell asleep and his tears dried, and then he held him a little longer.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Sorry that sucked and was kinda stereotypical/ unrealistic I hope you enjoyed nonetheless! :)
> 
> Also I will be updating my other stuff soon, it’s just so much easier to start a bunch of new stories 😂


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